Beauty of the Dark
by Misguided Marissa
Summary: Tate has an evil twin
1. Chapter 1

"You're all I want. You're all I have!" Tate screamed at Violet, desperate to get her to hear him.  
>"Go. Away. Tate. Go away!" She squealed and closed her eyes.<br>Her words sent a dagger into his non-beating heart. He appeared in the dark basement. After he threw a few things around the room, he collapsed to the floor, pulled his knees to his chin, and began rocking back and forth as he smacked his head. "Violet is the only thing that matters to me in this Goddamn life!" he screamed into the somewhat vacant basement.  
>"Aw, poor Tate, did Violet finally grow wise to your monstrous ways?" a voice mocked Tate from the shadows. Tate watched through his tears as a silhouette came into the light. "What a pity," Chad shook his head and pushed out his bottom lip. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before murdering an innocent couple." He turned around and started to walk away.<br>"You did this?" Tate growled. "You told Violet all those things?" his voice got a little higher. Chad began laughing at Tate's attempt of intimidation. He turned to face Tate who was now standing behind him.  
>"Red really isn't a good color on you." Chad chuckled. "It hurts when someone messes in your life where they're not welcome, doesn't it? All I did was tell miss Violet the truth about her angel in disguise. You played God. You chose to rid me of my life and now I have to live eternity in this shitty house with a man whom I love, but doesn't love me." He stepped towards Tate, eyes locked on one another. "At least you know that Violet loves you. You have an eternity to try and win back her trust—until you kill another family or rape another girl's mom. What do I have? Who do I have?" Chad shouted.<br>Chad turned around and began up the stairs. Tate fell to the ground, staring into the dark. "Why would _I_ do all these things?" After a few minutes he decided to check on Violet. He knew he couldn't go but so close to her, but he had to know if she was okay.  
>He appeared at her doorway, the door was open and she was laying on the bed, sobbing. Whispering his name as she drifted off into a not-so peaceful sleep. With each "Tate" that escaped her lips, his heart sunk that much deeper. If he wasn't already dead, he could definitely understand why people said they die from heartbreak. He felt the middle grow weaker and weaker, until it just gave away and broke right down the middle.<br>It was kind of refreshing at the same time one of the most painful thing he ever experienced. The only thing that was more painful was when he tried to save Violet. The feeling was refreshing because even though he had girlfriends before Violet, he never felt that way before. A lifetime of being numb and then this one girl entered his life, creating a whole bunch of feelings he had only ever heard about. He was addicted to what she did to him.  
>After the sobs began to taper off, he turned around and headed back to the basement. As he made his way through the living room he felt someone walk by him into the kitchen. Living in a house full of ghosts, their paths crossed a lot, but something felt wrong. He turned on the balls of his feet and followed the sillouhete. "Moira?" he asked. No response. "Nora? Bryan?" he continued to call out the names trying to get a response.<br>Staring out the window was the culprit. "She thinks I did all those things." Tate spoke to the individual. "She thinks I'm a monster. They all do." He stood next to the ghost and sobbed. The other ghost didn't speak, just began mindlessly spinning the thumb ring that sat nestled on his left thumb.  
>"And? What do you want <em>me<em> to do about it?" the ghost finally spoke. He turned to face Tate and glared. The ghost was Constance's fourth child. Tate's identical twin brother, Isaac. When Constance was pregnant with them Isaac grew exponentially stronger and more rapidly than poor Tate. Tate was almost dead when she gave birth to them. While Isaac was as strong as a two month old. From the very start Constance knew something was not right about her Isaac. He looked, sounded, everything just like Tate. Except his dark eyes barked and were full of evil. Though she loved her children to the best of her ability, she feared Isaac.  
>"I want you to tell Violet the truth. I want her to know that I'm not the one that was in the rubberman suit. I didn't hurt her mom. I want Chad to know that I didn't kill him or Patrick. I want my name cleared. I'm losing the only thing that keeps me going in this life, because of you," Tate tried to sound strong and intimidating, but instead sounded like a desperate puppy begging for love.<br>"What makes you think I did those things? Maybe you just repressed those memories. Maybe you are the monster they all accuse you of and you just want me to say it's me so you can go on doing those acts without consequences." Isaac snarled.  
>Tate glared at him and lifted up Isaac's shirt. He looked at the seventeen bullet holes that were spread around Isaac's chest. "I know you killed those innocent kids at our school."<br>"Yeah, I did. Do you know how _you_ died?" Tate shook his head. "You killed yourself." He grabbed Tate's arms and rolled the sleeves up to reveal two long scars, vertically down his wrists. "You killed yourself because you were bullied. So I went to school dressed like you, after I paid a well deserved visit to Larry, and I killed whoever I could find. They cried, begged for their pathetic little lives. Then I went home and waited. I didn't expect it to be long before the police showed up. And I was right."  
>Tate took a deep breath. At least in his fantasies he was trying to help people. The world was full of pain, he wanted to protect people from it. "But still, the only good thing to happen to me, living or dead, hates me right now because she thinks I did these horrible things. I just want you to admit to her that it was you."<br>Isaac looked at Tate's pleading face and asked, "Why would I do that?"  
>"Because I know you care about Violet. She's hurting right now."<br>Isaac contemplated that for a moment. "Nah, I like being invisible and having you take all the blame for my actions."  
>Tate turned around and walked away. He had to prove to Violet that it wasn't him. He just had to. He loved her too much and didn't like her being mad at him. Especially when he didn't do anything. Isaac killed those kids in the school. Isaac was the one who was shot by the police. Isaac had sex with Vivien. Not Tate.<br>He missed Violet's kisses even though he had one earlier. He missed her smell, her touch, her voice, her everything. He was intoxicated by her, and he was going to get her back if it was the last thing he did.

Violet woke up with her pillow stuck to her face from her dried tears. She stared at the spot where Tate was laying when they first had sex. She loved that night, though it was a bit rough for her. A tear ran down her cheek as she remembered the closeness they shared and how she couldn't have imagined it with anyone else.  
>She was still so angry at him, but part of her longed for him to be there when she woke up. He would be laying on his left side, propped up on his elbow, just watching her sleep. Then when he saw her eyes flutter open, he'd smile and touch her cheek with the back of his hand. She reached over and lightly touched the area of the bed that he would've been on and then started punching it.<br>"Shit!" she yelled in a huff of anger. "Why the Hell did you do this to me, Tate?" she screamed hoping he could hear her wherever he was. "You said you'd always be there! You said you'd never let anything hurt me! You said you loved me!" as the last word came out of her mouth, her voice broke and she began sobbing again. She hated crying. She was always strong and at times wondered if she even was capable of crying. Now she was so tired of crying that if she never cried a single tear again it would be too soon.  
>"Honey, are you okay?" Vivien asked as she ran into the bedroom. She sat next to Violet and wrapped her arms around her. "I heard you scream downstairs." She began stroking Violet's long hair and rocking her as she hummed Violet's lullaby from when she was a baby.<br>"I'm so sorry mom," Violet murmured. "I'm sorry that dad was such a shithead to you. I'm sorry I overdosed. I'm sorry that you died. But most of all, I'm sorry that the one guy I ever loved killed you." Even as she muttered the words, which she knew were true, Violet felt sick to her stomach. She felt like she should've been on Jerry Springer or Maury. _My boyfriend knocked up my mom and inadvertently caused her death._  
>"Violet, sweetheart, I'm sorry you felt the need to kill yourself and you didn't feel that you could come to me about your problems. Everything else I've let go of. But I can't let go of the fact that I wasn't there for my baby when she needed me." Vivien hugged her tightly. "But now we have all of eternity to have be here for each other." She kissed Violet's head. "Except for right now, I have to go find Moira." She got up and laid Violet's head down on her pillow and rubbed her arm before leaving.<br>Violet stared at the ceiling for a moment, wondering what exactly happened to Tate when she told him to go away. She knew he was still in the house, after all they're stuck there forever. But did it send him to another room, or just make it so she couldn't see him? The latter gave her goosebumps so she looked around the room. "Tate? Are you here?" she asked as she looked all over the room, but nothing changed. She took a deep breath and laid back down.

Tate was in the attic watching out the window at the nearly perfect sunset and how he wished he could have enjoyed it with Violet. She was so much more beautiful than the sun setting, but something about it made him see her smiling face in it. He closed his eyes and walked back into the shadows. He had to come up with some sort of plan. Violet had banished him from being near her, but Isaac was free to roam the quarters of Murder House. How was he going to get her to see if he couldn't go near her?  
>First he thought of whispering it to her while she was sleeping, but then she might wake up and get even more angry. Then he thought about the chalkboard; writing a message explaining that it wasn't him and to let him explain. Once he was banished from her, he wasn't allowed near her until her feelings subsided or she sought him out. But since the last time he used the chalkboard for leaving her messages… didn't work out so well… he cringed at the memory of her near lifeless body laying on the bed, and him dragging her into the bathroom while he screamed at her, telling her not to die.<br>Finally, he decided that the only way to make it obvious he wasn't the monster was to have Violet see Isaac in the act and then appear next to him. That would work, right? He thought about it for awhile and decided that it had to be something small, he wasn't going to put his love in danger anymore than she was by being in that house. But Isaac was good at doing things when nobody was around to catch him. He was very sneaky. Which meant that Tate would have to become just as sneaky if not more so. He had to stay one step ahead of Isaac at all times.  
>He decided the only way to ensure he would get that kind of training was by the devil himself. Since Isaac had always been trying to get Tate to come over and embrace the darkness, he knew it wouldn't be too much of shock to Isaac. Tate took a deep breath and proceeded downstairs to find Isaac. Isaac was in the basement playing with their brother Beau. "Isaac?" Tate whispered as he stepped on to the last step.<br>"Yes?" he replied as he rolled the ball back to Beau.  
>"You know how you're always saying I should embrace the darkness instead of fighting it?" Isaac just grinned. "Well, I agree with you. I'm ready."<br>Isaac stood up and cocked his head to the right. "What made you change your mind?"  
>Tate hung his head down. "Since Violet hates me and thinks I'm a monster, I might as well live up to my reputation. Especially since she isn't going to forgive me for hurting her mom. Which if I had done it, I wouldn't expect her to forgive me anyway."<br>Isaac walked over and patted Tate on the back. "I'm glad you're finally acting like my brother." He turned and walked up the stairs.  
>Tate sat down on the floor and Beau walked over next to him, didn't make a peep just looked at him. "I'm not really going to allow myself to be consumed by the darkness, I just need to get Isaac's trust so I can free my name and get back Violet." When he said Violet, Beau smiled slightly. "You like Violet, don't you?" Beau nodded. "Here, let's play." Tate rolled the ball into the shadows and Beau ran after it.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a month since Vivien gave birth to the twins. A month since she died. A month since Ben took a gun to his head and pulled the trigger, only to have the full gun barrel not go off. A month since Ben apologized to his deceased wife and daughter, saying he couldn't be around them anymore. A month since he put The Murder House up on the market, and only had two nibbles. It was only 2 weeks since the Montgomery family put in an offer. Now there was going to be a new unsuspecting family moving in.  
>It had been a month since the incident happened and Violet hadn't left her bedroom. She would stare out the window until it became so dark she couldn't see anything. She remembered one time watching a Alfred Hitchcock movie about a guy who watched out his window and saw a murder, or something. She learned the pattern of all her neighbors. What time they leave for work, what time they get home, when they go to the mailbox, or walk their dog. People were a creature of habit and she was bored enough to notice.<br>She feared leaving her room because of Tate. She still wasn't ready to face him, even though she knew sooner or later she'd have to. Plus, she was dead, not like she needed to eat or anything. Her mom would come and sit with her every night. Her dad still hadn't talked to her since she informed him that she was dead. He had trouble coming to terms with things that he spent his entire life not believing. And every once in awhile one of the other ghosts would make an appearance in her room. They all liked Violet, especially the twins. They enjoyed trying to torment her.  
>The only ghost who didn't come to see if she was alright, was the one who caused all the pain to begin with. Not to mention the only one who could fix her broken heart. She missed his voice and how often he'd tell her he loved her. Her grandma said before she died that nobody would understand her and she was right. Nobody did. A ghost did. Though they had only been in the house for 6 months, he had become such a crucial part of her life that she really didn't know what to do with herself. She missed playing games with him. She missed feeling the most alive she had ever felt with him, even though she was no longer living. She missed Tate.<br>She sat up in bed when she heard a huge bang coming from downstairs. She let out a sigh as she climbed out of bed, still wearing the same clothes from that night and walked downstairs. There was nobody in the living room so she walked into the kitchen. Moira had been cleaning when one of the twins went through and took their bat to the dishes she had laying on the counter. She was quietly speaking in profanity as she picked up the pieces.  
>"Do you need some help?" Violet asked in a whisper as she crouched down to the floor.<br>Moira looked up and smiled slightly. "Good evening honey. I'm glad to see you out of your room. That's okay, I got it. Just Troy or Bryan came through here and did this. I swear, I wish—of all the occupants in this house—that Thaddeus had just let those two rotten eggs live. I would not have to clean the same spot fifty million times," she grumbled in a huff. "So what brought you out of your room?"  
>"I heard the commotion and decided to investigate. I was kind of bored in my room, anyway." She sighed once again.<br>"I thought you wanted to be in your room so you could avoid a certain character roaming these halls."  
>"I did. Have you seen him lately?" she asked a little scared of the answer but curious.<br>Moira thought about it for a moment. "Come to think of it, I haven't. He's probably been sulking around in the basement. He often goes there when things don't go his way." Violet sighed in relief. "But that doesn't mean he hasn't come up and I just haven't seen him. I tend to stay in the kitchen, when I'm not helping your mother with the baby."  
>Violet grinned. "I'm glad she has you to help her."<br>"Did you want to see your little brother?" Moira asked.  
>Violet shook her head. "No. I don't want to see him ever." She began backing up. The memory that Tate was the father of the baby came rushing back and made her sick to her stomach. "I should go back up stairs." She turned around and walked right into a body that had been standing behind her. She looked up into the dark eyes hidden underneath the blond curls. He was just so beautiful. He put his hands on her shoulders, his thumb ring caught the light and sparkled. He didn't say a word, just leaned down and let his lips attack hers. The kiss was rough and full of angst lust. Not like his normally gentle kiss, there was a sense of urgency and a desire to be in control. She tried to fight it, but it was what she wanted so badly. She wanted her Tate… She closed her eyes and finally gave the control over to him, completely. Before she knew it, he carried her to her bedroom, laid her on her bed, and was frantically undressing her as his lips never let go of hers.<br>She opened her eyes and looked at his face. "Tate, what happened to you?" she said in a breathless moment when he paused for a breath. She pushed him back and stared at the scar on his face. She had looked at his face every chance she got, she knew it like the back of her hand, how had she missed a very prominent scar? She placed her delicate fingers on the scar and traced it. Something wasn't right. He wasn't right. A smirk appeared across his face as he shoved her back on the bed and straddle her. "Get off of me, Tate!" she growled.  
>He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand and placed the other across her mouth. "Just be quiet, Violet, and enjoy the ride. Your mom didn't complain." He added a wink before she closed her eyes and went limp. A tear rolled down her cheek as she tried to imagine anything but what was happening to her. What happened to the Tate she loved? Why had he become such a monster?<p>

Tate was very agitated as he paced back and forth in the basement. He could feel the darkness within him, but he still didn't have a plan. How was he going to get Violet to see Isaac? His obsession with making things right was causing an uproar of annoyance from the other occupants of the house. None of them knew what was going on with Tate, but he was really getting under their… skin. Well, all of them except for Hayden who was determined to bag Tate and his constant refusal only made her that much more determined.  
>"Are you still hung up on that little prude?" She was leaning against the wall, running her right hand through her long hair while her left hand rubbed all over her petite body. She began moaning, enjoying her own petting a little too much. Tate rolled his eyes and looked away. "Oh, come on, Tate. Forget that nasty little slut, and be with me." She walked over to him very sultry and put her lips to his ear, "I can do things you've only ever dreamed of. I can make you forget all about that twit. I can make you scream my name in pure ecstasy. Now tell me you don't want me." She then reached down and grabbed his crotch.<br>Tate could feel his anger boiling inside him. He grabbed her arm and looked her in the eyes, his eyes were even darker than usual. "Now that's what I'm talking about," she squealed in a giddy tone. Her eyes were full of lust and excitement. She had gotten a rise out of him and even if it didn't work this time, she knew she was one step closer to finally conquering him. His grip on her arm never ceased, and it was turning black from the pressure, but of course she was dead and didn't pay any mind to it.  
>"Leave me alone, Hayden. And for the last time, I don't want you. I want Violet. I never will want you. Even if I never get Violet back, I will never sink so low as to have sex with trash," he growled at her and shoved her to the ground with a force so strong she slid into the wall.<br>"Wow, what a rush," she mumbled, out of breath.  
>Tate glared at Hayden for another minute before going back to his own thoughts. When the basement door opened, he watched as Isaac walked down the stairs with a triumphant grin on his face. Isaac looked over at Hayden who was arching her back and rubbing against the wall, then he looked back at Tate. "I see you were busy," he said with a slight chuckle.<br>Tate rolled his eyes and groaned when he looked at Hayden. "Hayden, please keep your legs together, or at least wear underwear." Hayden was too busy in her own little world to even pay attention to the twins standing right in front of her.  
>"Tomorrow the new family is moving in. I say we give them two days before we begin screwing with them… metaphorically speaking. Unless they're hot," Isaac muttered to himself. "Oh, I saw your little girlfriend in the hall earlier. She's still pretty ticked at you, so I wouldn't try to talk to her for awhile, yet." Tate frowned. "She's up in her bedroom, if you want to do that creepy watching her sleep thing you like to do every night. I'm pretty sure she's going to be out like a light for awhile," he said with a proud tone and a grin intact.<br>Tate nodded and wondered upstairs. He appeared in her doorway; Violet was laying on her bed, her shirt ripped open, revealing her bra and hideous scratches that were beginning to heal, but still looked painful. She had one shoe off, her leggings were down around her ankles and her underwear around her knees. She had her hands over her face and was sobbing, uncontrollably. "Why'd he do this to me?" she asked out loud. "He said he loved me! He'd never hurt me! Dammit, why'd he do this?"  
>He stepped back from the door and collapsed against the wall, following it down until he was sitting on his butt. He stared at his hands as he contemplated what to do. He wanted so badly to go in there and comfort her, to hold her and tell her everything would be alright. But he couldn't. He had let her down, again. He had hurt her by not protecting her from that monster. He looked up from his hands and all he could see was red. This was no longer about clearing his name and winning back Violet, it was about good vs. evil. It suddenly became crystal clear how he was going to protect Violet…<p>

After the she was finally done sobbing, only because her tear ducts were as dry as a desert, she pulled her leggings up and walked over to the door. She saw Tate sitting on the floor and felt fearful of him for the first time ever. She was cold, distant. She was too tired from everything that happened to even show her fear of him. Tate felt her presence next to her and jumped to his feet. She didn't even look at him, just stared at nothing. "Vi…" he mumbled as a tear fell down his cheek.  
>She just moved her eyes to his face. "What did I do to deserve that?" she had no emotion in her voice. He couldn't answer her. She did nothing to deserve it. She never deserved any of the things that happened to her. He reached up to touch her hand, but she cringed. "I would ask about finishing the job, but since I'm already dead… I don't see much more that could be done to me. Why, Tate?"<br>He collapsed to the floor and hugged her legs. "Violet, I promise I didn't hurt you! I would never hurt you! If I could, I would have given up my life to protect you, keep you happy. I did hurt you in the sense that I didn't protect you! But… Oh, Violet," he sobbed.  
>She looked down at the top of his head. "I know it wasn't you, Tate."<br>Her answer threw him off guard. He leapt to his feet again. "You do?"  
>"I'm not <em>that<em> stupid, Tate." She raised her shaking hand to his face and traced the area of his face where she once felt a scar. "You love me. I know, Tate. But… just because you love me, and I love you, doesn't mean we can fix things. You kept so much from me. How am I ever supposed to trust you? How am I supposed to know that what you're telling me is true? How do I know when it's you or… whatever that was that attacked me?"  
>He placed his hand on top of her and hugged it. "I promise I am going to make it up to you. I'm going to fix everything, Vi. Please, don't give up on me, yet. I need you." A single tear rolled down her cheek. "I have a plan, Violet. I'm going to right these wrongs, I swear."<br>He let her hand go and started to walk down the stairs. "Tate, please don't leave me." That was the first time in their whole conversation that she showed any emotion, fear. He wrapped his arm around her and didn't let go for the rest of the night.  
>They sat on the bed, Violet sat against the headboard while Tate laid on his side, propped up on his elbow, and she started asking him questions. "He's your brother, right?"<br>Tate nodded. "His name is Isaac. He's my twin."  
>Violet looked into his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me about him?"<br>He just stared at her sweet, innocent face. "I didn't know how to. I didn't even know until you came along, all the horrible things he did, or maybe I didn't want to. I didn't think it was that big of a deal if I didn't tell you. After all, nobody knows about him except for my family. We're never seen together. Mom won't talk about him. Addy and Beau can't. And I don't like to." He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Violet. I am so sorry."  
>Violet didn't know what to say or do. She didn't blame him for those hideous things she once did, but he still kept things from her. "Was I ever with him?" she whispered the question. He was thrown off by her question.<br>"No. I was the one receiving help from your dad all those days. I was the one comparing scars with you. I was one who found you the day you overdosed. I tried to save you. I never wanted you to end up like me. You are my world, Violet, my everything. If I could, I would die for you all over again, Vi. I'm not saying these things to make you feel guilty or anything, I'm just telling you this so you'll know how much I love you."  
>She placed her hand on his cheek. "I trust that you love me, Tate. I never stopped believing that. But I still am not ready to be back with you. I miss you, so much. But I'm not ready to just put all of this behind us, even though it wasn't you. Maybe if we could have had a new start, but Tate, we're stuck here. We're stuck here with your brother. I love you, Tate. I do. I just can't do it, I'm sorry." She could feel a tear run down her cheek.<br>He took his finger, wiped it, and licked his finger. Violet thought it was gross when he would do things like that, especially when he licked the blood off her wrist, but he just wanted every little part of her and didn't want any of her to be wasted. "Violet, I will wait for you. I only have forever." He smiled slightly. He kissed the top of her head as she laid down, cuddling in his arms.  
>"You won't leave?" she whispered, sleep was embracing her eyes.<br>Tate smiled and hugged her. "Never."


	3. Chapter 3

Tate waited until Violet was in as deep of sleep as possible—which for ghosts isn't really deep, mostly like resting their eyes. He slid his arm out from under her head and quietly placed both feet on the floor before thrusting his weight on them. Once he was free he headed down to the basement, ignoring Troy and Bryan who wanted him to play with them. He was a man on a mission and nothing was breaking his concentration.  
>"Hey Tate," Isaac said with a grin that quickly changed as Tate's right fist met his left cheek. Tate didn't speak a word as he picked Isaac up by the neck and pinned him against the wall. This was the first time Tate allowed himself to be consumed by the darkness entirely. He stared at his brother's sick and pleased expression, his nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw. The grip he had on Isaac grew stronger. He could feel the bones in his neck weakening.<br>"Why?" was all Tate said. Isaac coughed and laughed instead of answering. "Why her?" Tate growled again. Each second Isaac refused to answer; Tate's grip grew substantially stronger.  
>"I knew you weren't over her," Isaac choked out. Tate let the rest of his grip grow until he crushed Isaac's neck and dropped his momentarily limp body. He was already dead, and since the dead can't die again, it just takes them a few minutes to get back to "normal".<br>Tate ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends and smacking his head. He was trying to calm himself enough so he could talk to Isaac and get an answer. Isaac was lying on the floor, grumbling and making stupid jokes about how he had a neck ache from Hell. Tate rolled his eyes. Once Isaac was "healed" Tate asked him again. "Tell me why you went and raped Violet…" It pained him to say those words. It was one thing to mutter all the other bad things Isaac did, but now he crossed the line.  
>"She thought I was you until she saw my scar. It's always that scar. You the <em>perfect<em> son. The _perfect _boyfriend. What am I? What was Beau and Addy? Why weren't we good enough? Why did you get it so damn easy?" Isaac growled.  
>Tate laughed which caused the darkness to fade a bit from his eyes. "You think I had it easy? Being that witch of a mother's favorite son? That's easy? It may have looked like she loved me, but it was all a façade. She only liked my face. She only liked me when I could get her what she wanted, attention. 'Oh, what a beautiful son you have!' She ate that shit up. She ignored me just as much as she ignored you, Addy, and Beau. I wish I could have taken Beau's place; be hidden in the attic and not have to participate in her stupid game. I was not her perfect son."<br>Isaac rolled his eyes at Tate. "Whatever. Pretty boy. You had it a lot better than I did."  
>Tate took a deep breath. "This is beside the point. I want to know why you did all those horrible things to innocent people."<br>Isaac cocked his eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to know why I fucked Violet."  
>Tate cringed. "I do, but I want to know what made you do all those other things, too."<br>Isaac grinned and walked around Tate. "Well then, my dear brother, take a seat… it's going to be a bumpy ride." He placed his hand on Tate's shoulder and pushed him down on the ground. The evil smirk never ceased from his face. He was going to enjoy this.  
>Violet woke up in the middle of the night when a loud bang occurred downstairs. She climbed out of bed and wondered down the stairs, still not perfecting the ghost train of thought, she tip-toed. The front door was open, the glass shattered on the floor. "Damn it!" someone shouted from the shadows with an Australian accent. Violet looked over the railing and could see all the occupants of the house standing around, gawking at the door and culprit of the noise.<br>A young man threw down a box that slid right in front of Moira's feet. He began speaking in fluent profanity as he fumbled to pick up the broken glass. The ghosts shot glances at one another. The guy stood at the door and signaled. Violet sat down on the stairs, watching him. "Can you believe this is our house?" a woman's voice spoke as she entered the doorway, her husband on her arm and a little girl hiding behind her.  
>The husband turned on the light, revealing to Violet a very full foyer, but the family only saw the four of them. "Honey, this is your new home!" the mother said to her little girl. The little girl's eyes met every pair of invisible eyes in the room. Her mom picked her up and put her on her hip; she was sucking a pacifier and holding a blanket.<br>Nora began smiling at the little girl and the little girl smiled back, she began reaching for Nora when her mom took her upstairs. As they walked by Violet, the little girl reached for her and smiled.  
>"I can't believe you made me move to this stupid house that was probably built back when dinosaurs roamed the earth," the young guy said as he stared, disgusted at the ceiling.<br>The dad walked over, placed his hand on his son's shoulder, and handed him a bag. "Well, get over it, Logan. I already registered you to start Monday at Westfield high school. Like it or not, this is home now and we're not leaving for a long time." Violet couldn't help but chuckle at how very true the father was.  
>Logan rolled his blue eyes and huffed up the stairs. Violet watched as the 6'2" blue eyed, brown shaggy hair, peaches and cream colored skin boy stomped past her. She glanced down and saw all the other ghosts were still not sure what was going on, except Hayden who was eying the man who was sizing up the amount of boxes they had to unpack in the morning. Violet got up and followed the boy.<br>He wondered into the first room he came to, threw his bag down on the floor, and collapsed on the foot of the bed. Violet stared at him from the doorway. There was a boy on her bed and it wasn't Tate. "I hate this house!" Logan shouted. Violet once again snickered, _just wait until this house is the only life you will ever have. _"I hate this country and I hate you for making me move," he fussed some more. Violet decided she was going to have a lot of fun with him.  
>Tate was watching Isaac walk around him, he never stood still. "Are you going to tell me, already?" he asked, getting very annoyed.<br>Isaac finally stopped walking and sat down in front of Tate. He grabbed Tate's face and pulled it closer to his, Tate could see the darkness in his brother's eyes. It made him uneasy. "You really want to know why I killed those kids, burned up Larry, murdered Chad and Patrick, and had sex with your precious princess' mom?" Isaac seemed a little too proud as he named all the treacherous things he had done, and he was more than happy to go into details.  
>He shoved Tate back and jumped up to his feet again. "I set fire to Larry because he was too much of an idiot to see how mom was playing his sorry ass. I liked him, but he was a fucking moron. Kept going on about how much mom loved him and blah, blah, blah. He was pissing me off with how he was going to move in and become our dad. Asshole." Isaac reached in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, placed it between his lips, lit it, and sucked in a long deep inhale. "So then I went to school. Mom didn't want anyone to know I existed since I wasn't, well, you. I decided to get revenge on the world. You had killed yourself because nobody even noticed you. They didn't really bully you, but you were just a slight breeze drifting through their perfect little lives. It was enough to make you feel like a worthless piece of shit. They may not have bullied you, but they didn't give a damn about you, to me, that is even worse than if they had messed with you."<br>Isaac walked over to the window and stared out. "I walked through the school, shot 10 random people. I didn't know if they knew you or anything, I just played 'eenie, meenie, miny, moe' with them. Then I got to the library. The doors were shut. Had they just hid and not shut the door, I probably wouldn't have even bothered with it. After all, I didn't even know there was a library. I tried to open the door; they locked and jammed something against it. They were fucking cowards." He took a pause to take a drag off his cigarette. "I shot three times through the door, hitting that librarian or teacher or whatever he was. Then I was able to open the door. Nobody was around, but I knew they were in there. I could smell their fear. I could hear an ever so slight whimper as I made my rounds." He managed to smile.  
>He stood up and walked around the room. "First one I found was that Goth chick; she started screaming from a couple books that I shoved off the shelf. She stared at me, pure fear in her eyes. I was very amused. I shot her in the head. Next was that guy named Kevin. Haha, he didn't even really try to hide from me. He was between a couch and table. How sad of a hiding place? I shot him in the right side of his face." He walked over and crouched next to Tate. Tate was taking in all the information his brain was receiving. "Next, that dork with the glasses. The one who decided to call for help. I really let him have it; he looked up into the barrel of the gun and I blew off his face. Did he really think he was going to get away with that?" He shook his head and stood back up.<br>He picked up a ball and started bouncing it. "Then that fucking jock tried to talk to me. He thought he was going to be the hero and save the day. Ha. There's never a hero when you show up unarmed to a gun fight. I placed the barrel to his head and pulled the trigger. Hiding under the table was the precious cheerleader. She was a pretty one. Fortunate enough to look pretty even when she begged for her life. I didn't want to ruin her pretty face so I shot her in the heart. Then I went home and waited. I wasn't stupid. I knew the police would look for me here first. They busted through the door, a whole team of them. I heard mom calling your name. Not mine." He grabbed the ball and threw it through the window. He then sat down in front of Tate. "I reached for my gun and let them shoot me. I let them take me away from that horrible life."  
>Tate took a deep breath. "What about Chad and Patrick?"<br>Isaac began laughing. "The queens? They were just for fun. Nora was bitching about how they wouldn't have any children and she'd never get a baby, and blah, blah, blah. So I killed them. I made a Patrick cabob using the fire wood poker. Chad, he was different though, he fought to stay alive. So I took them down into the basement. He reached for his partner. It was quite moving. Haha. Then I made it so Chad was holding the gun and pulled the trigger into his heart."  
>Tate tried not to cringe. "What about Vivien?"<br>Isaac smiled. "Vivien. Have you seen her? She's hot! And I refuse to call what we did 'rape'. She wanted it. She just thought I was her jackass of a husband. Who was I to correct her? But I can promise you, she was loving it," he said with a wink. "She never once said 'no' or 'stop'. Unlike that little prude of a girlfriend you have."  
>Tate could feel his anger welling up again. He started to reach for Isaac's neck when he heard a strange voice coming down the basement stairs and Isaac vanished before he had a chance to grab him. Tate backed into the shadows.<br>Tate stared at the unfamiliar tall dark haired man who was carrying boxes into the basement. Every so often he would grumble profanity in his thick accent, as he would drop a box on his foot, or walk into something that was already down there. "Wow, look at all this shit," he mumbled to himself about the condition of the basement. "This house sure did accumulate a lot of worthless crap."_You have no idea,_ Tate thought to himself.  
>The man walked back upstairs and Tate decided to follow him. Even though he had been a ghost for a long time, he sometimes still snuck around when following someone. He acted a bit like a spy; walking slowly and far behind the man, sliding around the walls, hiding behind things. After a while, he realized he was just doing it to entertain himself as he eavesdropped on the new occupants.<br>Tate watched the man go into the one bedroom and check on his little girl. He couldn't remember a time before Vivien came along that a little child had set foot on the house's grounds. She was precious as she slept. He could almost guarantee that Nora had already sensed, if not seen her, and was already referring to the little girl as her baby. "Goodnight my sweet Annabelle," the guy whispered as he kissed her on the forehead.  
>The little girl opened her eyes as Tate started to walk away. He knew, even though nobody else could see him, she was looking right at him. Children haven't been corrupted by life, yet. They can see things that most adults tell themselves are not real. Her large green eyes were sparkling and she smiled, reaching for him. He allowed her to grab his finger and with his other hand placed his index finger to his lips. She slowly let go and fell back asleep. It broke his heart that he would never have the chance to make Violet a mom and he believed she would've made a great mom.<br>He followed the guy into Violet's old room; lying across her bed was Logan. Tate could feel a slight snarl try to escape his body. He wasn't perfect and when it came to Violet, he didn't like any possible competition, living or dead. Tate took a long, deep breath before entering the room. He was snooping around at the few boxes that were stacked in the room. Tate noticed that on every box in the room had a strange language on them. He ran his fingers across the braille letters.  
>The father walked out the room, after saying goodnight to Logan. Tate stared at the young man in wonderment. "Don't you know it's not polite to stare?" Logan asked quietly. Tate stepped backwards in shock. "Look, I may not be able to see you—and if you are what I think you are, sight wouldn't help my cause anyway—but I know you're here." Tate was too shocked to say anything. He staggered out of the bedroom and followed the man's silhouette.<br>Tate watched from the doorway as the man was greeted by his wife with a kiss. She had long auburn hair hanging down her back. "Jim, I love our new house," she said with a smile. "I love its character and charm. I never want us to leave this house." She kissed her husband. He began kissing her neck and whispering her name into the nape of her neck, "Brooke."  
>Although Tate was still standing in the doorway, he wasn't really watching as their encounters grew more and more intimate. A glazed look washed over his face. Nights like that he really wished he could sleep. His brain had processed too much information in a short 24-hour gap. He liked the new family, or at least what he knew of them. They were bringing life into the dead house once again. Just like Violet did. Only this time, he wasn't going to let bad things happen to them. He knew his best chance to accomplish that would be Logan. He wondered back into the basement, trying to come up with a plan to rid the house of its evil.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

It had been six months since the new family had moved in; they had redecorated the house with their own furniture and were finally unpacked. The curb was lined with empty moving boxes to be picked up by the garbage truck on Thursday. Things were feeling good in The Murder House. Tate had kept a close eye on his brother, making sure to keep Isaac busy by teaching Tate about the darkness and all its great powers. Tate hadn't seen much of Violet since the night he cuddled her to sleep, but he knew as long as Isaac was in his sights that she was safe.  
>Violet had taken an interest in Logan, but she still didn't let her presence known around him. Since school was now out for the summer, he was always around the house. She didn't exactly find him attractive, just interesting. The way he moved around the house with such ease; only took him a couple months to figure out the entire area of the house, except the basement. Whenever he would start to open the door, Violet would make some strange noise in another room for him to investigate.<br>She even made a deal with Troy and Bryan; she would never get mad at them, no matter what evil tricks they did to her, as long as they kept their distance with Logan and Annabelle. They weren't too happy about it, but since Violet was already dead they possibilities were endless. It had been a couple months since their last trick on her and she was ready for a doozy one day soon.  
>Logan was in his bedroom playing music and reading when Violet left him. She wondered downstairs to the kitchen where Annabelle was sitting at the kitchen table with finger paints; getting her play clothes as dirty as possible. Nora was sitting at the counter with a cup of tea, watching in amazement. "I have wanted a child for as long as I can remember," she spoke quietly; her head was away from the doorway that Violet was standing in. "And when Thaddeus was born, I was so happy. I don't remember ever being so happy." Her smile started to fade. "That horrible evening after I hung up with that evil voice that chanted 'Eye for an eye. Tooth for a tooth.' I didn't know what was going on, but I knew something wasn't right. I ran to check on Thaddeus who had been asleep. And…" She stared out the window, seeing her painful memories of that night dance before her. "He was gone. My angel was gone."<br>She made took a long mournful sigh. "Charles said that whoever took him would give him back to us after we paid the ransom. I waited by the phone. I waited, and waited for someone to call me about my baby. But no one ever did. They returned my sweet Thaddeus, in jars, cut up into pieces. They killed my baby." She began blinking, trying to find the courage to not cry. "Violet, you will never know the pain a mother goes through when she loses her child. You will never understand the desperation of her actions to try and replenish what she lost. A feeling I will know for the rest of forever. When you lose your child, you lose yourself. Now, I look at any family who has a child and I am so envious. And envy will hurt you in the end. I see this beautiful little girl in front of me," she pointed to Annabelle. "And I know she is not mine. She is not my Thaddeus, but I can't hold back the desire to take her and raise her as mine."  
>She looked behind her at Violet. "I know I would not be a good mother to this little girl. I wasn't a good mother to my own. If I had been more attentive or… He would have never been taken from me, never murdered and placed in jars. Charles would have never tried to play God and bring back my only piece of pure happiness. But I still want her… if it wasn't for that horrible woman taking your mother's baby, I would have taken that one. But now she is all I want." She took a sip of her tea and went back to staring at Annabelle.<br>Violet already knew the story of Nora and Charles—and given the opportunity, Nora would tell her story of sorrow and pain again, and again, and again—but there was something about the way Nora told it to her this time that tugged at her heart strings. She knew she had to watch over Annabelle and make sure Nora didn't try to take her somewhere.  
>Violet started back upstairs when she saw Logan walking through the basement door. "Aw, shit!" she screamed. She ran after him but he was already down the stairs, as she listened to him saying "hello" into the empty basement, she decided it was now that she had to show herself. "What are you doing down here?" she asked. His head snapped around, facing her. "It's not safe down here. You're not safe."<br>"Who are you?" he asked, trying to follow her voice.  
>"That doesn't matter. You need to go back upstairs and never come in this basement, again." With each word he stepped closer to her until his hands clung to her delicate shoulders. He ran his fingers over her face. "What are you doing?"<br>He smiled. "I'm looking at you. You're very pretty," he said as he placed his hands at his side. "Why are you in my basement if it's not safe? How did you get in here? Who are you?"  
>"I live here. I'm a ghost of my former self." She watched his facial expression, expecting to see shock. "My name is Violet. I think that answers all your questions, now please go."<br>He laughed. "I knew there were ghosts in this house. You've been watching me, haven't you?" He winked at her.  
>She began shoving him up the stairs. "Don't get overly excited. This house can get quite boring. I'd watch a dog if one dared come on this property." She led him through the door and shut the door behind them. "You're a strange one, aren't you? I should be worried about your sanity, you didn't even startle at the news of my being a ghost."<br>She was still guiding him and he was fumbling over her feet. "Who am I to judge someone for being different?" he spoke with all sincerity.  
>"Even though the thing that differentiates us is a beating heart?" She was positively baffled by him.<br>He chuckled. "My eyes don't work. Your heart doesn't. So what? I like talking to people who don't take pity on me." She turned him to face the upstairs. "And by the way, ghost girl, I can take it from here." He smiled before grabbing hold of the railing and pulling himself up. She followed behind him into his room.  
>"This used to be my room… when I was alive and all that," she mumbled to herself.<br>Logan ignored her trip down memory lane. "How many ghosts are in his house?" he asked as he walked over to his stereo and turned it on. Nirvana music started playing and Violet smiled. She knew she liked him for a reason.  
>"Let's see…" she said to herself as she took a seat on his floor. "There's the Montgomery's and their… son who lives in the basement. A couple nurses that worked for Mr. Montgomery. Hayden. My mom. Moira. Beau. The twins. Myself. Chad and Patrick. Lorraine and her two girls. Travis. The home invaders. And Tate." She decided not to mention Isaac since it pained her to even think about him. She didn't even look at his expression, just stared into space.<br>"Wow. Who's Tate? Your voice changed when you said his name."  
>She jumped to her feet. "I'll tell you about them all another day. I have to go do some things."<br>He grinned. "Ghost things? Like scare people?"  
>"Something like that. Remember, don't go into the basement."<br>He nodded. "Bye, ghost girl."  
>She smiled. "Bye, strange boy." She turned around on the balls of her feet and headed out the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She didn't notice the familiar figure lurking in the shadows, watching her every move.<br>Tate had been in the basement when he heard Violet's sweet voice. He followed her upstairs and watched every breath she took and smile that graced her lips while talking to Logan. He was making her smile again. Something Tate hadn't seen in a while. She even laughed a few times; her laughter was his lullaby. He knew she loved him, but she wasn't safe with him until Isaac was gone.  
>Tate sat in the chair at the foot of Logan's bed; propped his feet up and watched Logan stir in his sleep. Logan's breathing went from quick to slow; he was waking up. "Have a nice dream?" Tate spoke with clarity and meaning. He watched as Logan shot up in bed and shuffled backwards, asking who was there. "I was watching you sleep and it looked like you were having a nice dream. I bet I know who it was about because I'd dream about her too if I could dream at all." Tate ignored Logan's constant question about his identity. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you, I just wanted to talk to you."<br>"How'd you get in my room?" Logan continued with the questions.  
>Tate rolled his eyes. "Enough with the questions! I'm trying to talk to you and all you care about is unnecessary tidbits. I live here, well, more like I'm damned to walk these halls for the rest of time. This used to be my room, then Violet's, and now yours. The sky is blue just because it is. The chicken crossed the road just for the Hell of it. My name is Tate. There, does that answer all of your damn questions?"<br>Logan's eyebrows flew up. "So you're Tate. I don't really know anything about you, except that when Violet said your name I could sense something in her tone, what it was I'm not sure."  
>Tate chuckled. "I'm not sure what she feels for me, either. But that's not why I came in here." Tate put his feet down on the floor. "I need you to do me a favor." Logan cocked his eyebrow. "I see that Violet is quite fond of you and doesn't want you to get hurt—trust me, there are more things in this house that can hurt you than out there. I don't want Violet to get hurt. I need your help with protecting her."<br>"Me? You want me to help protect someone I can't even see?" Logan laughed at his request. "Plus, isn't she already dead? How could she possibly get hurt?"  
>Tate shook his head. "Just because her heart no longer pumps blood through her body, does not mean it can't be broken. Glass isn't alive and yet, you can shatter it into pieces beyond repair. Help me keep her safe from that. Please?"<br>Logan took a deep breath. "I can tell you love her and I wouldn't want something to happen to her, she's fun to talk to. What do you need me to do?"  
>Tate smiled and rested his hands on the bed railing. "Just talk to her. Keep her occupied. If she's not alone, she won't be susceptible to the evil in this house. It only really attacks when you're by yourself. I may need your help with something else, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Do we have a deal?" Tate held his hand out.<br>Logan closed his eyes and smiled. "Yes, we have a deal. And you do realize holding out your hand doesn't really help me locate it, right? I'm not a bat, I don't have sonar." Tate scrambled for his hand and they shook.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a month since Tate's and Logan's agreement and Logan made sure to spend as much time with Violet as he could. So much that if for some reason he had to go a day without talking to her, he felt as though his day wasn't complete. She asked him one day if he found it weird that he was talking to a ghost and he told her that she was the best friend he had ever had, even if she was dead. Living in a world full of darkness, Violet's voice was the only hint of light to him; though he would never see her face, his mind painted a beautiful picture.  
>It was the last day of summer vacation; Violet and Logan were lying outside on a blanket enjoying the sun. Even though he couldn't see it, he loved the feeling of the rays on his skin. "Can I ask you a question?" Violet spoke quietly as she turned her head to look at him. He nodded. "What happen to you? I mean, were you ever able to see?" She turned over on her side, propping her head up with her elbow.<br>"I could see until I was 8. I got really sick; they weren't even sure I'd survive. The illness took my sight. I went into grave depression after that, I even contemplated ending it all. What was the point of life if I would have to depend on someone my entire life? Even as a child I was very independent. I hated people taking care of me. And suddenly that was my fate? For the rest of my life I would be doomed to live my own personal Hell? But I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't hurt my parent's more than they already were by watching me suffer. So I went to therapy—both physical and the crazy kind. And obviously it didn't stick since I'm telling everything to a ghost girl," he chuckled. Violet rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. "My turn… You never told me about you or the other occupants in this house?"  
>Violet sighed and lay back down. "Well, I'm not telling you about everyone. I don't have the time, nor the inclination to relive all their sorrow filled lives. So pick three of them and I'll tell you what I know about them. Although, it might be better to find them and let them tell you their stories; they adore talking about themselves."<br>Logan tried to remember all the names of the people she told him about. "Okay, I want to know about you, Moira, and… Hayden?"  
>Violet hated anything to do with Hayden, especially talking about her. "Hayden was my father's mistress who came looking for him—she was pregnant—and ended up dying on the property. I think it's really a rip off since my dad got to run away, but I'm stuck with her complaining about him all the time. She really hates my mom and, well, she's just a bitch. She gets very horny too, it's quite disgusting. I think she'd have sex with an animal if one presented itself." Violet stuck her tongue out, and then remembered it didn't matter her facial expressions.<br>"She sounds… interesting," he laughed. "Now, tell me about Moira."  
>Violet smirked. "Moira is very nice, she keeps this place in tip-top shape and if it weren't for her we'd be living in pure chaos," she whispered.<br>Moira stepped from behind a tree. "Yes, Violet, I do keep the ship from sinking, I suppose. But I can also smell bullshit—as you put it—a mile away." Violet smiled. "I came out here to tell you that Mr. and Mrs. Matthews are looking for Logan and your mom would like to talk to you."  
>Violet rolled her eyes and sighed. She started to walk away from Logan when he grabbed her arm. "Wait, before you go I want my parents to meet you. They can see you, right?" Violet's eyes grew wide and she began to stutter.<br>"I—I—I can't. My mom is looking for me," she said, as she tried to get out of his hold.  
>"Please? It won't take but 2 minutes. I just want them to know I'm not crazy when I talk about you. They never see me with anyone so they think I'm sliding back into depression," he explained.<br>"Logan?" he heard his mom cry from inside the house.  
>"Out here," he shouted back. "Please, Violet?" She looked back at Moira who just shrugged. He let go of Violet's arm and placed his hands in his pockets.<br>"There you are," his mom said in a relived tone.  
>"Mom, I want you to meet Violet," he gestured beside him, but only pointed to thin air. He heard his mom let out an "uh" noise. "There's no one beside me, is there?" he asked, sadly. Violet watched from behind a tree, she just couldn't let people see her. Especially his parents; they wouldn't believe what she was and they might leave the house. Most people aren't fond of owning a haunted house. She couldn't lose her only friend like that.<br>"Logan, you're too old to have imaginary friends. What has gotten into you? I guess we'll just have to get you in to see your therapist soon," his mom rambled as she walked inside.  
>Logan turned around and faced Violet, even though she knew he couldn't see her, she still ducked. "Thanks, Violet," was all he said before turning around and walking into the house. She felt her heart slowly begin to break for what she had done. She fell down to the ground and started crying. Tate was walking past one of the windows when he saw her crying outside, he told Logan to keep her safe and what does he do? Takes that to mean break her heart himself; he could feel the anger building up inside him. <em>Nobody hurts my Violet and gets away with it<em>.  
>Tate stormed up the stairs after Logan. Logan was sitting on his bed, barely moving. "What the Hell?" Tate shouted, startling Logan to the point that he fell on the floor. "I asked you to keep Violet safe and then you go hurt her? What'd you do to her?" Logan was stuttering as he backed against the bed. "What did you do to her!" he shouted, again.<br>"I didn't do anything!" Logan snapped back.  
>Tate could feel his rage boiling. He took his right hand, grabbed Logan by the collar of his shirt and threw him into the wall. "I DON'T WANT TO HURT YOU!" Tate clenched his fists and ran it into the wall right next to Logan's head. "It's just; I don't want anything or anyone hurting Violet."<br>"Dude, I totally get it. I would never hurt her."  
>Tate took his fist out of the hole in the wall. "Then why is she outside crying?" Tate wrapped his long fingers around Logan's neck.<br>"Maybe your little prude is whiny bitch, Lurch." Tate turned to see Hayden standing in the doorway. Tate rolled his eyes. "Do you honestly think this kid would hurt your precious little Violet? He maybe handicapped, but he's not stupid."  
>"Stay out of this Hayden," Tate growled. "This doesn't concern you."<br>Hayden laughed. "First off, when have you ever known me to stay out of things? And second, all you do is fuss about Violet, the fact that I'm fucking tired of hearing about her does concern me. Plus, do you think killing him will solve _anything_? There's enough unwanted souls in this house. While I'm not objecting because he's hot and I could enjoy him…" she lost herself in her thought. "Anyway, there's no fucking room. I already can't move around this house without running into someone…"  
>"Enough, Hayden," Tate snarled. Hayden disappeared into the shadows. "I'm not going to kill you," he whispered to Logan. "But, you have to tell me what the Hell happened with Violet, do you understand me?" Logan nodded as much as Tate's grip would allow. Tate relaxed his grip and sat down on the floor while Logan explained.<br>"As for why Violet's upset, I don't know. I should be the one, she made my mom think I'm a freak," Logan finished with a sigh.  
>"You are a freak, Logan. You're talking to a ghost."<br>"A ghost who just tried to kill me, mind you."  
>Tate laughed. "If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead like me right now."<br>"Ha—ha—have you killed before?"  
>Tate shook his head but then remembered Logan couldn't see his response. "No, but apparently the dark in this house and in my family can make you do crazy things. My twin brother has done awful things and nobody knows about his existence except for me, Violet, and now of course you. I don't include my mom because she never really acknowledged his existence when he was alive. My brother is in the attic most of the time, sometimes the basement but he doesn't talk. My sister died outside of the house so she wasn't damned to live here forever."<br>Logan took a deep breath. "So there is evil in this house…"  
>"You don't think I'm evil?" Tate asked in a shocked tone.<br>"No. Like you said, if you wanted to kill me, I'd be dead, right? And I don't think Violet could love someone evil."  
>"You're pretty cool guy, Logan."<br>Logan laughed. "Even though I can't see?"  
>Tate snorted. "Actually, I think you're one of the few who really can see." Tate stood up and grabbed Logan's arm, pulling him to his feet. They started to part ways when they heard an atrocious scream coming from downstairs.<br>"That sounds like my mom's scream!" Logan shouted. Tate disappeared and Logan fumbled down the stairs following the panic sounds of his mom's voice. She was standing in the kitchen staring at the spot where Annabelle had been sitting. But nothing was there. Red handprints covered the wall in what looked like blood. Logan held his grief stricken mom while Violet went on her own investigation.  
>Violet walked into the basement, even though nothing bad could really happen to her down there and she knew how to get rid of Thaddeus if he did bother her, it still gave her the creeps. She preferred the attic where the only thing up there was Beau, and Beau loved her. With each step she took, a loud creak mocked her. "Nora?" Violet called out into the vas darkness. "Are you down here?" Even though Thaddeus was a monster, Nora spent a fair amount of time near him.<br>Violet rounded the corner to find Nora sitting in the white rocking chair with Annabelle fast asleep in her arms. "Hush little baby don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird," Nora sang quietly as she traced Annabelle's skin with her long fingers. "You know, children tend to have this… sixth sense about people, dead and alive. It's almost as if they could see right into your very soul." She looked down at Annabelle's precious face. "How could I be such a horrible mother and still have this beautiful baby fall asleep in my arms? I was so obsessed with having the perfect life that I was helping Charles destroy lives, babies. Although I wish I could've raised my Thaddeus, I don't blame that man for doing what he did to my baby. I helped murder his, he murdered mine." As Nora spoke, a tear ran down her cheek.  
>Violet walked over and squatted next to her. "I understand you loved Thaddeus, but you can't change the past, Nora. Annabelle is not yours. Keeping her for yourself is like helping Charles kill those innocent babies all over again. You're taking another child." Nora closed her eyes at Violet's words. "Her mom is upstairs crying her eyes out because she can't find Annabelle. If you love her, you'll let me take her back to her mom." Violet held out her arms, waiting to see what Nora's reaction would be. After a long moment, Nora handed Annabelle to Violet. The baby's limp, sleeping body melded to Violet. "I haven't any doubt that you would have been a wonderful mom in your time, Nora." Nora smiled.<br>Violet turned around to face another figure behind her. Isaac was clapping his hands, sarcastically. "Well done, Violet. You got the baby back from that whiny bitch."  
>Violet's eyes grew wide at first but then quickly filled with rage. "GO AWAY, ISAAC!" She shouted as she closed her eyes. When she opened them back up, he was gone. She smiled with pride. Annabelle woke up and Violet looked at her. "Annabelle, if anybody ever scares you in this house, tell them to 'go away' and they will, got it?" Annabelle nodded and hugged Violet's neck as they went upstairs. She knew sooner or later she was going to have to face him head on, instead of always running from her problems, but today was not that day.<br>Violet carried Annabelle into the hallway, stopping right before entering the kitchen. She took a deep breath before proceeding in. "I believe this belongs to you?" Violet said as she entered the room. The grieving mom ran to her side and scooped up Annabelle into her arms, hugging her tightly. Violet stood beside Logan. "I'm sorry for earlier. It was not right of me to run and hide like I did. Can you forgive me?"  
>Logan smiled. "Only if you do something for me." Violet agreed to whatever he wanted. He took her hand in his. She felt a surge of electricity from him; she could feel her cheeks begin to blush and she was so happy he couldn't see her. "Mom, <em>this <em>is Violet. My friend." His mother was so relieved and roughly shook Violet's hand. They spent the next few hours getting acquainted. Violet made sure to answer briefly and ask questions herself when the subject started to get off track. Violet even went through the whole charade of being escorted out the door and told 'good night'. "Thank you, Violet," Logan said with a smile.  
>"It was the least I could do," she replied. Without warning, Logan's lips attacked hers. Her eyes grew wide before slowly closing as her lips responded. She could feel him smile as he was kissing her, running his tongue along the outside of her bottom lip and even softly tugging, begging for permission. Violet never let her lips part. After a moment, he pulled away and smiled. She didn't know how to respond or what to do. Logan shut the front door, leaving Violet on the front porch confused.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

It was a month after Logan kissed Violet; she decided against telling Tate about it since she wasn't sure what it meant. She still hung out with Logan, changing the topic whenever he'd bring up the kiss. They were sitting in his bedroom when he asked her once again about it. She was already ticked off because Isaac was up to his normal charades and causing trouble everywhere, making Tate run after him as he tried to keep Isaac away from Violet. Logan waited patiently. "I don't know what this means for us, Logan!" she screamed. "I love Tate, but I don't even know what things are between the two of us."  
>Logan lowered his head. "I like you, Violet. I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't. Why can't you understand that I'm the one who sees you as you really are?"<br>Violet smirked. "What am I?"  
>Logan began rubbing his hand and took a deep breath. "You're scared. I get it. You died before you knew what love was. You died because you were afraid of someone loving you so strongly; fear is the only emotion you know well. I maybe blind, but it doesn't take eyes to see. In fact, they really get in the way. They only show us what we want others to see. You want everyone to think you're so tough, but really you're as scared as everyone else." Violet was speechless as he explained his words. "I like Tate. He makes me think of you, he was scared of life, too. But just because I like him doesn't mean I'm not going to fight for you. And all of his evil glares and intimidating moves won't work on me. I know what I want… I just have to wait for her to see that she wants it, too." Logan stood up and left before she had a chance to answer.<br>Violet ran her hands across her face in frustration. "Hey," she heard the familiar voice behind her that never failed to send shivers down her spine. Tate walked in the room and sat down next to her. She stared at his saddened eyes. "Look, I can see you like Logan, and that's good. He's normal—aside from the lack of vision—and normal is good for you, it's what you deserve. It's my fault that you like him since I asked him to help me protect you from Isaac." Tate took a deep breath. "You should be with him, not me." Violet's head was reeling from everything that was happening. "He's right… You killed yourself because of me…" Violet watched as a tear rolled down his cheek. She started to respond, but he took one of his long fingers to her lips. "I scared you. He's the one you should be with."  
>Violet could feel herself losing all composure. "But—but I want to be with you, Tate. I need you." Tate smiled slightly; that was all he ever wanted to hear from her. "I love you, Tate."<br>He bit his lip. "I love you too, Violet. I always will, but… I… don't want to be with you anymore," he choked out every word. He watched her heart break in front of him through her brown eyes. It took everything in him not to tell her he was lying, but he knew he wasn't right for her. She deserved better than him or anything he could ever give her. She deserved to be happy like she was when she talked to Logan.  
>Violet felt everything inside her breaking. She didn't know what to say or do. She tried not to cry in front of him, but a couple tears slipped down her cheek as she watched him get up and walk out the door. She felt alone and broken. The only one she could say she loved and not have a shred of doubt in her head just told her he didn't want to be with her.<br>The feeling took her back to the day when she told him to go away. She was angry with everything she found out; that her mom had just died in front of her eyes, that he (or at the time she thought it was him) was responsible for killing her mom and other innocent people. She remembered when she screamed the words and closed her eyes; how she was praying that he wouldn't really disappear. He would be standing in front of her and she'd run to him, banging on his chest a few times with her fists. Then she'd lose all composure and just start bawling in his arms, and everything would be okay before long. But what was she supposed to do now? He left voluntarily. How was she supposed to behave when he was the one making her cry, and he was the only one who could put her back together?  
>Tate sucked up his nerves and went to find Logan. Logan was in the kitchen, sitting at the dining room table. "I need to talk to you," Tate said as he entered the room. Logan put down the sandwich he was eating and raised his head in response. "I finally have the plan to rid this house of the evil."<br>Logan raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Go on, I'm intrigued."  
>Tate took a seat across from Logan. "Have you heard of the Croatoan spell?" Logan shook his head. "It's a spell that works to rid spirits of a particular place. Violet and I tried it once to get rid of Chad and Patrick, but it didn't work."<br>Logan chuckled. "Well, if it didn't work, what makes you think it will now?"  
>"Because you're alive. Violet and I are dead; ghosts can't rid the house of other ghosts."<br>"What? Is that in the ghost handbook or something?" Logan said, sarcastically.  
>Tate rolled his eyes. "No! It won't work because those who are alive are the only ones who possess the belief that these things work. They do it to have control. In the end, it's what you believe with your entire being that means something. Not what others tell you to believe."<br>"So what am I supposed to do?"  
>Tate leaned back in the chair. "I am going to get Isaac's thumb ring and I want you to throw it in a fire, when he appears just say the word. Everything else will happen on its own." Tate then paused. "But I want you to do one more thing for me, also." Logan's eyes widened. "I am going to give you something of my own and I want you to send me away, too."<br>Logan scoffed. "Why would I send you away?"  
>Tate stared at nothing and took a deep breath. "Because I'm evil, also. I hurt the only thing that matters to me. But it's for her own good." He looked up at Logan. "I want you to take care of her. Love her. Make her happy." He reached his hand over to Logan's. "Do we have a deal?"<br>Logan thought about it for a moment before shaking Tate's hand. "Deal."


	7. Chapter 7

Logan was in the basement when Tate told him to be there. He was standing by the steps, remembering how Violet was so insistent that he not go down there. He heard the door open and the steps creak with each step the person took. "Give me your hand," Tate said to Logan. Logan extended his hand and Tate held out his elbow for him to grab. "Do you remember what you have to do?" Logan cocked his head to the side, as if to say "really?"  
>"Yes, I know what to do," Logan said in an annoyed tone. It was that hard of a task; throw whatever Tate gave him into the fire, wait until Tate said to do it, and then mumble Croatoan. Easy. Tate walked him over to the furnace and directed his hand to the door. In his other hand, Tate laid something small but slightly heavier than he was planning. "Do you want me to throw it in now?" Logan asked.<br>Tate nodded and said, "Yes."  
>Logan tossed the ring into the fire and closed the door. "What the fuck, man?" Isaac screamed, staring at his ring melting. Logan jumped at the sound of Isaac's angry voice. "What the hell did I ever do to you?"<br>Tate rolled his eyes. "Now, Logan," he said, sternly.  
>"Croatoan!" Logan shouted. Tate watched as Isaac vanished before his eyes; he wasn't quite sure what to expect with that spell. Maybe lights would have emerged from inside Isaac's body, creating a spectacle. But regardless, as soon as Isaac disappeared, the house felt much calmer. "Is that all?" Logan asked, still unsure of what was going on.<br>Tate reached in his back pocket, pulling out a folded up picture. He unfolded it and examined it; it was a picture of Violet when she was sleeping, when life was still pulsing through her veins. One of the many nights he would stand at the edge of her bed and watch her toss and turn in her sleep, he took a picture of her. "Not quite," he mumbled to Logan. "You still have to do the other part of our deal."  
>Logan closed his eyes. "Are you sure? I don't feel right sending you away when you haven't done anything to me." Logan really didn't want to hurt Violet and he knew by sending Tate away, he'd be hurting her.<br>Tate shook his head. "I have hurt her. I killed her." His own words cut him. He extended his hand with the picture at Logan; Logan shook his head. "You said we had a deal," Tate growled as he grabbed Logan's hand and shoved the picture in it. "Finish the deal, or I'll finish you."  
>Logan sighed and tossed the picture into the fire. Tate closed his eyes as a single tear ran down his cheek. "Croa—"<br>"Wait," Violet's voice spoke up from the shadows. Tate opened his eyes and looked at Violet who had a very annoyed look on her face. Logan sighed in relief. "Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" she asked Tate.  
>"I—I—I… Well, I decided that you didn't need me around anymore, after I hurt you so many times, so I was having Logan send me away. How did you know what was going on?" he asked surprised.<br>Violet rolled her eyes. "It's not that big of house when you consider the number of occupants in it. And what gives you the right to decide who I need around? I'm pretty sure that's up to me and I'm not letting you go," she said as she laid her arms across her chest.  
>Tate loved it when she was assertive and independent. "Maybe I meant what I said and I don't want to be with you."<br>Violet smirked. "Bullshit. But even if you don't, wherever you go, I go. I'm a ghost, I'll haunt you." Violet pulled out a dead black rose from behind her back. "Logan, here," she said as she handed him the flower. Logan tossed it in the fire. Tate stared at the flower and seemed baffled by it. "You don't remember? You gave me that on our first date… because I don't like normal things." She smiled at him. He couldn't help but smile back that time. She walked over and stood right in front of him. "Normal's not my thing," she whispered with a wink.  
>"Oh, good lord," Logan cried. "Obviously we're done here… if you need me…Yeah, just don't need me," he said as he fumbled back up the stairs. "Damn ghosts, asking me to do crazy shit for them…" Violet started laughing as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Tate smiled as she nuzzled her head underneath his chin. She was happy, and as long as she was happy, so was he.<p>

One Month Later…  
>For the first time in what seemed like ages, everyone who was among the living was out of the Murder House for the afternoon. Violet decided to take a nice long shower; although she was dead, there were still some habits that she liked to partake in from her past. She turned the water on hot and stepped underneath the shower head; she closed her eyes and loved the tingles from the hot water next to her cold body.<br>She stood without moving for a few minutes, facing the shower head. She opened her eyes when she felt the shower curtain move and cool air touch her bare skin. A pair of hands rested on her shoulders, sending even more shivers coursing through her entire body. She felt a pair of lips gently touch the top of her right shoulder, and then another one, followed by another all the way up the side of her neck. Each kiss made her whole body convulse inside.  
>The lips did the same to the other side of her neck and down her shoulder. The two hands slid down her body, resting on her hips, spinning her around. Her hands flew to Tate's firm naked chest; he looked into her light brown eyes and smiled. He then proceeded to kiss her forehead, nose, each cheek, lips, and down her neck; as his lips trailed down her neck, she laid her head back into the hot water and closed her eyes. "I love you, Violet. Forever," he whispered into her ear.<br>She opened her eyes and smiled "I love you too, Tate. Always and forever," she corrected. He smiled as he turned off the water and picked her up in his arms, leaving a wet trail behind them. He laid her on the bed and stared at her beautiful body; she was his angel. She saved him from a damned eternity, and instead made the idea of existing forever seem too short. And he was her dark side; she saw the beauty of the dark with him. Together they completed one another in every way possible; and now, they had each other until the end of time.

_FIN!_


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